Protecting Her Secrets (Mountain Men of Culver Springs #1)

Prologue

Walker

“To Bethany and Jeremy!” Skylar holds up her champagne flute. I don’t know anything about women’s fashion, but I do know what looks good, and fuck, does my woman look good. Her curls are pinned up artfully, and her navy gown leaves her shoulders bare before dipping down between her breasts. The fabric is layered until it hits her waist; then it’s smooth satin all the way to the floor. Even if she hadn’t told me she wasn’t wearing panties, I’d know—there’s no hiding anything under that fabric.

The large venue is lit only by chandeliers adorned with what looks like candles but are obviously fake. The warm glow sets off the tan Skylar has been working on all week as she and her girls lay by the pool at the resort. It also has her green eyes looking a lot less innocent and a lot sultrier.

Glasses clink, pulling me out of my trance, and I tap my own flute against those of our other friends sitting at the table. Bethany and Jeremy are the first of our high school group to get married. At barely twenty-one, our friend group hasn’t hidden their feelings that this wedding we’re attending is premature, but secretly, I get it. I’d marry Skylar right this second if I thought she’d say yes.

If I thought she could say yes.

My woman weaves through the tables, flashing that megawatt smile she reserves just for me, and it makes me feel like a fucking king. Her loose blonde curls bounce with each step until she stops in front of me, clinking her glass with mine.

“How’d I do?” she asks.

I pull her onto my lap and wrap my arms around her. “You were amazing.”

Her nose crinkles. “Really? It wasn’t too sappy?”

“There was the perfect amount of sap.” I bury my face into her neck, inhaling her sweet scent.

She turns her head and gives me her mouth. That glossy shit she has on her lips tastes like cherries and will no doubt rub off on me, but I don’t give a shit. Any man who’d refuse a kiss from a woman like Skylar over lipstick is a damn fool. Our tongues tangle in a familiar way I’ll never tire of as overwhelming love washes over me. I tighten my hold around her, as if she’ll disappear if I don’t. I wish I could say that feeling is unsubstantiated, but it’s not.

Skylar’s torn between me and her family. Her heart belongs to me, but her loyalty belongs to them and eventually, she’ll have to make a choice. Just thinking about losing her makes my chest constrict. But I decided long ago that every second I spend with this woman is a gift, whether I get the happy ending I want or not.

“God, I love you,” she whispers against my lips, ending the kiss. Which is a good thing because any more of that and my cock would take notice.

“I love you too.”

“You’re it for me, Walker Isaac Carter.”

“That’s good because you’re stuck with me.”

“Do you think they’ll make it?” she asks about our friends. The pair have been together as long as Skylar and I have, since junior year of high school.

“Bethany and Jeremy? Sure. They have just as good of a chance as anyone, I guess.” I brush the hair off her neck and kiss a path up to her ear. “That’ll be us someday, you know?”

“Getting married?”

“Yeah, babe. Married. Two point five kids. All of it.”

Her smile is sad when she turns to look up at me. “Walker.”

“What?” I’m playing dumb—we both know what . “Your dad’ll come around when he sees I’m not going anywhere.”

“It’s been six years; I think you’ve proven that.”

“But most of those years, we were just kids. Now that I’m graduating from college, I’ll have a real job, and he’ll see I can support you.”

“It’s not about that, and you know it. You think he’ll cave, but he won’t.”

“Then I’ll prospect.”

“No. Absolutely not.”

This is the same argument we’ve been having over and over again for years. Skylar’s dad is president of the Broken Rebels MC, which makes Skylar the club princess. Though I don’t understand it, she isn’t allowed to marry someone who isn’t in the club. I’d laugh at the absurdity if it wasn’t true.

That leaves us with two options: we stay together for now but know our time is short-lived, or I prospect and patch in. I refuse to not make this woman my wife someday, and she refuses to let me near the club. It’s a fucking standstill I don’t see a way out of. However, getting into an argument at the tail end of what has been the most perfect week of my life doesn’t seem smart, and since I’m a smart guy, I drop it.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“Yes, but tell me again.”

I grab her by the hips and set her on her feet before standing myself. Turning her around, I place her hands on my shoulders, thankful for the heels that bring us a little closer to eye level. “I’ve never seen a more stunning woman in my life.”

The megawatt smile returns. “And I’ve never seen a more handsome man.”

“Dance with me.”

“You don’t dance.” She reminds me, and she’s not wrong. I suck at it, and after multiple failed attempts at various school dances, I gave up.

“It’s a slow one. I think I can manage to sway without bruising your toes.” I take her hand and lead her to the dance floor. My hands roam up and down her back as we stare into each other’s eyes. There’s no doubt in my mind this woman is meant to be my forever. I knew it just as sure when I was sixteen as I do now.

One song turns into two until the DJ speeds things up, and I decide not to press my luck. “Let’s head to the bar.”

Once we have shots of tequila and Coronas in hand, we join a group of our high school friends standing at a table next to the bar, chatting and reminiscing. Some still live in Bakersfield, like Skylar and I do, while others have moved all over the country. When Bethany and Jeremy announced they were getting married in Vegas, we all decided to make a vacation of it. This last week has felt like a high school reunion, only fun, since it’s only our friends in attendance.

“Remember when Walker and Skyler decided to do the most cliché high school thing ever and get busy under the bleachers?” Casey says through a cackle.

“In our defense, I don’t think Old Man Louis had seen that much action in years. It was a kindness, really.” I hold up my shot of tequila before swallowing it down.

“I hear he’s still the janitor,” Dalton shouts.

“There’s no way.” Skylar’s shot glass halts midway from the table to her lips. “He had to have been in his eighties when we were there.”

“That man will haunt the halls of that place even after he dies,” I say.

“Children,” all six of us croak in our best Old Man Louis impersonation. “Slobs. All of you.”

Everyone laughs as Dalton holds his beer in the air. “To Old Man Louis.”

“To Louis,” we cheer.

Hours pass as we continue to drink, reminisce, and laugh with our friends. By the time the bride and groom leave to catch a plane to Mexico, we’re all more than buzzed. It’s not often I allow myself to let loose; kids like me can’t without the safety net of family to fall back on. If I want to create a life worth living where Skylar and I aren’t pinching pennies and working multiple jobs, I have to get good grades so I can graduate on time and get a decent-paying job. I’m not particularly interested in accounting, even if I am good at numbers, but it’s a job that’s always in demand and will allow me to work for myself one day.

“Where to now?” Casey asks as we watch the newlyweds pull away in their limo.

I push down all thoughts of college and my future. I’m in Vegas with my friends and the woman I love for one more night. I need to make it count. Who knows when I’ll have the opportunity again?

“Strip club!” CJ shouts.

“Pig.” Casey slaps CJ’s bicep.

I grin down at Skylar, whose cheeks have pinkened at the suggestion. My woman is a closet freak. She’s down for anything in bed, but she’s too embarrassed to admit it out loud. We lost our virginities to each other senior year of high school, so I’d still consider us both inexperienced. Asking her to try new things makes me nervous, so it has been a slow progression to broadening our sexual horizons.

However, tonight, we’ll both be buzzed, which means inhibitions will be low, and I have so many ideas. So, so many ideas. Realizing my cock is growing hard, I dismiss those thoughts and check back into the conversation.

“Strip clubs are a rite of passage for Sin City,” Dalton argues. “What do you think, Walker?”

“Only if you can get Skylar to agree.”

“What do you say, Sky? You down?”

She tucks her chin, her cheeks flaming now. “I’ll go.”

Yeah, she will, and she’ll love every second of the debauchery. Our friends cheer as the drunken energy grows. We’re all going to hate life tomorrow, but that’s not even a thought right now as we make the nights ours.

“Fuuuuuck,” I groan as I press the heels of my hands into my eyes. The alarm on my phone chirps at a decibel that makes my head pound. I sightlessly mute it as I roll onto my side and pray for death. What the hell was I thinking last night? And now we have to pull it together enough to get on a plane home. Shit.

“Skylar? Baby, we have to get up.”

My eyelids feel like sandpaper as I blink them open and sit up, throwing my legs off the side of the bed. I focus on the cheesy painting hanging on the wall to stop the world from spinning and then look down at my phone. It’s ten in the morning, but we didn’t get back to the hotel until five, where we proceeded to have drunken sex until six, meaning we only got four hours of sleep—not enough to sober me up.

Spotting a bottle of water on the nightstand, I ignore the hotel’s note announcing the ten-dollar price tag should I choose to drink it and twist the cap off. My mouth is dry, and I feel like every ounce of hydration in my body has been sucked out. I chug all eight ounces, wishing there was another.

“Skylar, you gotta wake up.” I look over my shoulder, expecting to see blonde curls spread across the pillow and my girlfriend curled into a tight ball, her preferred sleeping position. But she’s not there. Maybe she’s already up and showering. I drag myself to my feet and shuffle to the bathroom, finding it empty as well.

She probably went downstairs to get us coffee and breakfast, but then I notice her luggage is gone. Even through my drunken fog, I know my worst fear has come true. She’s gone. My hangover takes a back seat to worry as I rush back to the bed and yank my phone free from the charger, finding a text from her. I don’t click on it right away, my thumb shaking as it hovers over the words I know will change my life forever.

Walker, if I could have one wish, it’d be to spend the rest of my life with you. But wishes are magic, and magic is pretend. There are no fairy godmothers or genies in bottles—there’s only cold, hard reality, and that reality has finally caught up with us. It may seem like I’m taking the easy way out, but trust me: you’re getting the better end of the deal. After this, you’ll hate me and want to move on, but I’ll spend the rest of my life loving you, knowing I’m the reason we can’t be together.

My phone vibrates with another text just as I finish reading. It’s from Skylar, which pisses me off that right this second, she’s somewhere out there typing this bullshit to me.

When you’re ready, we can discuss an annulment or divorce. You know how to reach me.

What the fuck? We got married? It’s then I see a certificate and some legal-looking papers on her side of the bed. I pick them up and inspect them, trying to drum up some memory of filling them out because who forgets they got married? Apparently, me. Staring at our signatures on the license only adds to the destruction raging in my heart. This is what I always wanted, the one wish I knew would never come true, yet it’s right here in black and white.

I collapse onto the mattress, my forehead in my hands as I stare at the State of Nevada stamp that made us a family, something I had once but never thought I’d have again. Growing up, it was just me and Mom, but we were a great team. We took care of each other, and even though I didn’t have a dad, I never felt like anything was missing.

Then she married Mark, and I lost some of her attention, but it was okay because she was happy. It wasn’t until I was fifteen and they had their first baby that I started to feel pushed out of the family. By the time I turned eighteen, they had three young kids, and it became obvious I didn’t fit in.

Mom barely noticed I existed, and after I overheard a conversation between Mark and her about how they couldn’t wait until I moved out so their oldest could have their own room, I knew I didn’t have a home there anymore. My own mother’s rejection nearly had me throwing my life away, but Skylar pulled me through. She helped me enroll in college and even score some scholarships and grants.

Skylar became my family, and my goal has always been for us to have kids of our own someday. I was going to be the best dad; I was going to make sure my kids felt wanted, help them navigate through life. Skylar would’ve been the best mom, too. Her gentle and soft approach would give them somewhere soft to land. Every day for the last four years, that’s what I’ve been working toward.

Now, she’s gone, along with any chance I may have had at building a family.

I huff, pulling at the ends of my hair. All it took was a text and a piece of paper to ruin my life. That’s how little I had before, and now I have nothing, or at least I won’t once the marriage is annulled. I latch onto the fact that until that happens, Skylar is mine. She might have extricated herself from my life, but I have a legally binding contract that says we belong to each other.

I tuck the papers into my luggage, along with all my other shit, and leave the hotel—married but alone.